Page 106 of The Blue Viking

Maire was almost done with the tapestry, and it was true… there was no hiding the fact that the male figure was Rurik. She couldn’t have done it any other way. But a family? Nay, that would never be. For some reason, she had felt a need to complete the work, though, like a rite she must perform to put an end to her fantasy. Thereafter, it would be a reminder to her of foolish woman notions that could never be.

“You must come to Dragonstead sometime … in the spring or summer when it is loveliest… and make a tapestry for me of Tykir’s beloved home,” Alinor urged.

“Oh, really, I cannot foresee any time when I—”

“Alinor! Must you always think so fast? My brain cannot react so quickly. I would like Maire to do a tapestry of Eirik and me at Ravenshire with our entire family. Would that be too many figures for you, Maire?” Without waiting for Maire to answer, Eadyth tapped her chin pensively. “Mayhap she could go to Dragonstead in the springtime, then come to Ravenshire in the fall.” She turned to Maire, who was dumbfounded by these requests. Did they not understand that once they left Scotland, she would have no connection with them, because Rurik would have no connection to her… other than through Jamie?

Blessed Mary, she was getting a pain in the head. “Oh, I couldn’t,” Maire said. “I have too much work to do here at Beinne Breagha. And, besides, the tapestry is just idle work. I have more important things to engage in than such frivolity.”

“Frivolity!” the three ladies exclaimed as one.

Rain patted her on the shoulder. “There is naught frivolous about creating beauty.”

“That’s what Rurik said.”

“He did?” Alinor cocked her head as if pondering a great puzzle. “Perchance the dolt has promise, after all… deep down.”

“I have the perfect answer,” Rain announced.

Maire hadn’t realized there was a question to be answered.

“Rurik and Maire will want to winter together alone, here in the Highlands, after their wedding—”

Maire gasped. “There is not going to be a wedding … leastways not betwixt me and Rurik.”

“—but come spring, they can take a wedding trip to the Northlands, and—”

“There is not going to be a wedding.”

“—come summer, they will arrive at Ravenshire, still on the wedding journey, and then—”

“There is not going to be a wedding.”

“—in the autumn, she will be in Jorvik to do my tapestry, before taking the tail end of her wedding trip back to Scotland.”

“There is not going to be a wedding.”

All three ladies clapped their hands together, as if they’d just settled Maire’s fate. She couldn’t allow that. Standing abruptly, she almost toppled her stool. Folding her arms over her chest, she asserted in as firm a voice as she could muster, “There is not going to be a wedding. I would not marry the loathsome lout now if he were the last man on earth. And that is final!”

“Really?” Eadyth inquired. “Well, I can understand that. He is a loathsome lout.”

“But then, all men are loathsome louts at one time or another,” Rain pointed out.

“ ’Tis true. ’Tis true,” Alinor concurred. “I recall the time Tykir thought he could win me over with feathers.”

“Feathers?” Maire choked out.

Alinor rolled her eyes. “Yea. In the bed furs.”

Maire almost swallowed her tongue at that mind picture.

“Of course, that was after the lackwit kidnapped me and delivered me to the king of Norway, just because he thought I was a witch and had put a curse on the king’s manpart, causing it to take a right turn.” She grinned after delivering that long-winded description of one of her husband’s doltish acts.

Aye, Maire was going to swallow her tongue, for sure.

Eadyth laughed in a way that implied she knew more of these stories and they were mirthsome, indeed. “ ’Tis no worse than my Eirik. He would not bed me the first few weeks we were wed because he mistakenly thought I was an aged crone. Talk about doltish! Can you imagine that?”

Maire could not.